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"What!?" Garreth cried, his arms flying up, for Harreld had stoood up of a sudden.
"I need the latrine," he said under his breath.
"What for? Since when can't you hold your ale?"
"Shush!" Harreld said.
"Oh, I know where you're off to!" Garreth gibed.
Those at the table watched Harreld stomp off out of the Mead Hall, and turn left.
"Latrine's the other way!" Garreth shouted. Harreld turned around just long enough for everybody to see him look indignant and go very, very red in the face. Then he went into the kitchen.
"What's going on?" Falco asked.
"Nothing," Eodwine said, looking squarely at the Hobbit. The last thing he wanted was for Master Boffin to get his hobbit gossipy tongue going on this little tidbit. He rounded on Garreth, whose mouth was open ready to spit out exactly what he was thinking. "And you keep your mouth shut, Gar!"
Garreth looked stunned. "What did I do?"
~*~
Harreld made his way into, and through the kitchen. Only the cook was there, and she asked what he was wanting.
"The latrine."
"Out back!" said the cook.
Harreld made his escape through the far door and took a look around. He had never been in this part of the place before. There was a nice little courtyard a-making, with a nice slender tree in the middle of it, giving off shade. There was a bench under the tree, big enough for a few people, and there was somebody sitting on it. He took a step closer, fearing and hoping and forgetting how to think.
It was her. She turned and saw him. His tongue quit working. His brain was suddenly turned to useless sponge. He stared.
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